The Truth and Nothing But the Truth: Take Two
by PhantomPhan24601
Summary: Grace, a female reporter finds her first major story when the newsies strike, but will the newspaper editors accept a front page story written by a girl?
1. Chapter 1: Meeting Jack and Davey

**Some of you may have read my other newsie story… I am leaving that one up for now, but I will probably take it down sometime soon. Anyway, it didn't get me where I wanted it to so… Welcome to The Truth and Nothing But the Truth: Take Two. ****J ****I really appreciate reviews. They are very motivational. I hate to beg, but please let me know what you think of my story so I can adjust it or fix things. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed my story already! It gives me motivation to update sooner!**

**Disclaimer: Grace is mine. I love the name and I have a plan for it so I am recycling it from my old one.**

Chapter One:

As I walked toward the theatre, three boys shoved past me, throwing me off balance and sending me sprawling to the dusty ground. Unfortunately, I landed directly on my dignity, putting a good-sized dent in it. The fall hadn't injured me, but it had startled me. The walk to the theatre had been calm and uneventful despite the busy streets cramped with people and horses. The tallest boy who had bowled me over skidded to a stop, jogging back toward me. Strands of his long brown hair hung in his face and his brown eyes showed. The other two stopped as well, glancing back over their shoulders to see where they had lost him.

"Jack, we don't have time!" called the older boy, grasping his younger brother's hand. They had to be brothers. They were too similar not to be. The only real difference was that one had curly hair and the other had straight hair, but both were colored the same. The older one wore a blue striped shirt with a brown vest over it. What were they doing with this boy walking toward me? He obviously wasn't related to them. By blood at least… And what had possessed the trio to sprint through a busy New York street? They could have gotten trampled by a horse or something.

So the one coming toward me was named Jack… "One minute!" he called over his shoulder. He held out his hand to me. "Are you okay?" he asked. I accepted his hand, but waited until I was on my feet to shoot him a glare and tell him exactly what I thought of him running through the streets.

"You know, you should really watch where you're going," I said accusingly. I straightened up, pushing my shoulders back in an attempt to look intimidating which was impossible, given the fact that he towered over me.

"I'm sorry," he offered. It wasn't quite sincere.

"No you aren't," I said briskly before brushing the dust from my fall off my skirt. I whipped around to continue on my way.

"Yes I am." Was the dear boy daft? I turned around to face him which I regretted for once I saw the smirk on his face I wanted to march right up to him and smack it off his face.

"I'm still not convinced." Once again I resumed walking toward the theatre. A good reporter must be punctual. But I wasn't expecting him to follow me.

"Where are you going?" he asked casually as he fell into step beside me.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "What can I do to make you go away?"

"Let me buy you lunch at Tibby's tomorrow."

I glanced up at him to see if he was serious. "No thank you."

The boy with dark curly brown hair jogged to catch up with us. His little brother ran alongside him. He took one look at the Jack's face and burst out laughing. "Ha! It looks like the great Jack Kelly just got rejected!"

"Shut up Davey." Jack gave Davey a playful shove on the shoulder. He turned his attention back to me. "Then I guess I'll just have to keep walking with you."

I made a mental note that the boy with the curly brown hair was named Davey. "Fine. You can buy me lunch at Tibby's. Now will you go away?"

"Actually, I was headed this way, too. You goin' to the theatre?"

"No," I blurted. I let my shoulders sag. "Yes. Oh great… you're headed there too. What a coincidence." I stared down at the cobble stones as we walked partly to make sure I didn't trip, but mostly to escape his gaze. Suddenly something caught my attention. I skidded to a stop. Jack stopped too. "You tricked me! I should have known! You street rats are so typical! Please leave me alone!" I gave my best attempt at a dramatic exit, sprinting toward the theatre. Once inside the theatre I purchased a ticket and made my way to what I thought was the best seat.

The lights dimmed a few minutes after I took my seat. I took a deep breath and prepared a fresh page in my notebook. My heart pounded with excitement as the curtain lifted. The show was just beginning when three silhouettes entered my row and sat down beside me. I recognized them as Jack, Davey, and the little boy whose name I had yet to learn. Jack's arm rested on the back of my seat. The house was full otherwise I would have changed seats, but I was on the end of the row and had nowhere to hop to.

"Please go away." When he didn't respond, I pinched his sleeve in an attempt to pull his arm from behind me, but he didn't feel like cooperating so I elbowed him lightly in the side.

He rested his other hand on my elbow. I let loose a sigh of frustration. "Don't you have somewhere else to be."

"Shh. The show is starting."

"Ugh. You're an impossible boy." Hesitantly, I rested my back against the seat, crossing my arms, and tried to focus on the stuff going on up on stage instead of the tall, lanky boy sitting beside me. It turned out to be quite a challenge. He kept glancing at me every time something funny happened to see how I would react. I kept glaring up at him. Occasionally I would jot something down in my notebook. Of course he would look over to see what I was doing. My mother would have croaked if she had seen the way he, a street rat, was leaning against me, but I couldn't just leave. Times were hard and I had been saving up for a week to go to this show, but the cost of more important things had kept me from enjoying myself. I mean, I had a large, very sizeable sum saved up for something important, but I never liked dipping into that money. I preferred to use the money I got from doing random jobs to spend on restaurants or theatre tickets. The rest I kept sandwiched between my mattress and bed frame waiting for something important to spend it on like collage or a new camera.

It finally ended. The big, billowy red felt curtain pulled to a close. The lights rose. Ladies and their gentleman began making their way toward the exits. I kept writing in my notebook, trying to block out the three boys periodically staring at me.

At the end of the show, we all lazily walked toward the theatre exit, giving the music a chance to soak in.

"So, you like that?" Jack asked.

"It was great. She's beautiful. How do you know her?" David answered.

"She was a friend of my father's." Jack vaulted up onto a shoe shining stand. "Come on, Les, shine my shoes," Jack said jokingly.

"Oh, it's getting late. My parents are going to be worried. What about yours?"

"Nah. They're out west looking for a place to live. Like this." He removed a worn brochure from his pocket. A proud cowboy sat on a stunning palomino. A beautiful yellow and orange sunset provided adequate background for the two. "See that? That's Santa Fe, New Mexico." He tapped the cover for emphasis. "As soon as they find the right ranch, they're gonna send for me."

Working in the news business, or at least trying to, I knew that whatever graced the cover of an official looking document wasn't always true. Nothing written was guaranteed true either. What if his dream wasn't all he expected it to be? So far I wasn't getting anywhere. How could he? Especially in this world. This dog-eat-dog world.

Little Les looked up at Jack with big dreamy eyes. Then you'll be a real cowboy," the adorable boy remarked.

. Jack smiled. "Yep." His attention turned to me. "So what were you writing down in there?" Jack questioned, gesturing toward the theatre.

"Taking notes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm trying to get a job as a reporter," I answered honestly, knowing that he was going to laugh at me as soon as the words were out. This happened all the time. People asked what I was doing taking noted on everything. I gave them an honest answer and then they laughed. Some even told me to get back to the kitchen. That was my cue to walk away.

Right on cue Jack burst into laughter, slapping Davey on the shoulder. "You hear that, Davey? This girl thinks she's a reporter." David didn't know what to think.

I began gathering my things. "Laugh all you want, Jack, but someday when one of _my _articles makes the front page, it's going to be _me _who is going to be laughing at _you_. Now, if you will excuse me, I will be going and I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't follow me this time." Ignorant Jack had just crossed a line and my good temper was stretched to its limit.

I stormed out the front of the theatre, careful not to bump into anyone of higher social standing than I was. Several pairs of footsteps joined me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Jack following me. Without thinking, I rounded a corner hoping I could ditch them. Several loud bangs echoed throughout the city. Men began yelling. I flipped open my journal, running toward the scene. In my eagerness to remove pencil from behind my ear, I dropped it and it rolled into the street. I had just reached down to grab it when something seized my shoulder, yanking me backwards just as a team of draft horses passed in front of me. I could have been run over!

"What were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed!" Jack was fuming. But why? It would have been my fault if I had gotten myself run over.

"Apparently I wasn't thinking. Thank you." I had to yell to be heard over the noise.

Jack went into the street after my pencil. When he returned he thrust it into my hand and pulled me back farther from the street. I thanked him again, but he seemed too entranced in the action to pay any attention to me.

Down the street fire raged. Smoke lazily swirled into the air only to disappear into the dark night sky. Men fought, yelling at each other. Policemen whacked disobedient men with their batons. Glass shattered. It was pure chaos. My stomach churned. I scribbled everything down onto my notebook. The newspaper couldn't reject an article like the one I was going to write with this news. New York couldn't reject this kind of information, act like the trolley workers didn't exist. This could be my big break!

"What's happening?" I asked. Jack seemed to know. He was yelling and punching the air in excitement.

"It's the trolley strike. You know, it's been in the news for weeks." He gestured to the brawl. "These couple of dumba- dummies," he amended, glancing my way, "must not have joined or somethin'." He clapped Davey on the back. "We're going to have a good headline tomorrow, Davey."

I stared at the violence unfolding before me. One heavy-set man in a navy police uniform raised his baton over a trolley worker's head, but the man grabbed his arm to prevent the officer from striking him. Jack stepped in front of me to block my view.

"Jack! Let's go to my place and divi up! You can meet my folks!" David yelled over the noise. His expression suggested that he didn't want to stick around and watch this unfold especially with a little brother to watch over. Where was he, anyway?

"Alright! Let's go!" Jack suddenly smiled, staring at something. I turned around and followed his gaze to find Les asleep on some bags of horse feed outside a store. "Look at this, Dave! He slept the whole way through it!" Jack picked up Les threw him over his shoulder. Les still held on to his treasured wooden sword, but his grip was loose. Afraid he would drop it on the way home, I gently pried it out of his hand and handed it to Davey.

"It wouldn't be good it he dropped this," I said jokingly as I placed the sword in his hands.

Davey smiled. "Thanks."

Davey kept up a steady stream of chatter until we reached his house. "Well, this is where I say goodbye. It was nice meeting you boys."

"Will I see you around?" Jack asked.

I giggled. That was one of the first times anyone had ever been sincerely concerned about not seeing me again. "Not unless you run into me. Again."

"I hope I do."

Davey laughed when I giggled. "Wow, Jack. You do have a way with the ladies." That comment earned Davey a jab in the ribs which was delivered by Jack's elbow.

I waved. "Goodbye!" I called out as I turned to cross the street. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Jack hand Les to Davey and start jogging toward me. Footsteps echoed through the alley. Suddenly he was at my side.

"At least let me walk you home."

"No thanks. I think I can make it."

He laughed. "Sure. Just like you almost made it across that street," he pointed out.

I sighed. "Thanks again for saving me… Now you can see why I really shouldn't have been named Grace." When he opened his mouth, I held up a finger to silence him. "I can make my way back home without help. Besides, I don't live far."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Positive. Thanks for your concern, but this is the turn of the century. Women are gaining more and more independence."

He stifled a laugh. "Hey, don't forget about Tibby's tomorrow!" he called after me.

I glared at him before crossing the street hoping I would never be forced to lay eyes on that filthy street rat ever again. There was no way I was going to willingly meet him at Tibby's.


	2. Chapter 2: Tibby's

The day after my unfortunate run-in with an ignorant and very arrogant Jack Kelly, I was sitting on a bench waiting for a good story to pass by. The newspaper editor had turned down my story yet again, this time claiming it was because everyone was writing about the Trolley Strike. According to him, the topic was tired and old and everyone and their dog were writing about the Trolley Strike. It seemed to be the only interesting thing happening in New York and I had seen firsthand just how interested people were in the violence dragging on near their homes. He was tiptoeing around the truth. He didn't publish my work because of me being a girl. In retaliation I told the editor that it was _The Sun _that was tired and old. Unfortunately that hadn't gotten me much. Just a sharp glare and a security escort out of the building. If Father had seen that he surly would have had a coronary…

So there I was, sitting on a bench, resting my elbow against the armrest, and resting my chin in my hand just waiting for a good story to pass in front of me. There had to be _something _new in New York soon.

I watched dust swirl up as the milkman made his daily rounds with his tired old mare. The distant clinking of a blacksmith could be heard. Bottles clinked as the milkman's cart was jostled by bumping over some uneven cobblestones. People rushed to get to work or to the market. A light breeze rustled my hair. It was just a normal, boring, uneventful day in New York. What had people in such a frenzy to get here? Smoke from factories wafted into the air. Tall, cold, imposing buildings stretched into the sky. New York certainly wasn't _pretty._ In the eyes of a business man, perhaps, but I would have preferred to be able to see grass and trees over dusty cobblestones and crowded streets.

Several loud boyish voices grabbed my attention. I glanced over in their direction to see a large group of newsies whooping and cheering as they neared Pulitzer's office. Something big was _finally_ happening! It was evident in the way the boys were acting. I grabbed my notebook, removed the pencil from behind my ear, and, without much thought, rushed toward the crowd in time to see the huge French doors open and just as quickly close. I sought out any familiar faces. The most prominent ones were Davey and his brother Les.

His eyes made contact with mine. A good portion of the boys swept their hats off their heads and stared at me. A more crude portion whistled. David glared at the crowd on my behalf. I tried to show no outward reaction for it was hard for me to determine whether I should be insulted or flattered by their attention.

"Good morning, Grace. Nice to see you again," Davey greeted me, playing with his hat nervously in his hands.

"It's nice to see you as well. Say, Davey, what exactly is going on here?"

"We're striking."

"Striking? Now? Davey, I don't think that's such a good idea. You saw what happened to those trolley strikers last night. You and the boys could get hurt. You boys need the money. Be reasonable."

David seemed pretty relaxed. "We're going to be fine, Grace. Jack and Les are in there right now." He gestured to Pulitzer's office.

I shrugged even though my heart was furiously pounding now that I knew Jack was inside. Fear twisted through my veins. "Who is the running this thing?" I scribbled the date and poised my pen above my paper to dictate anything else Davey would say.

As soon as the words left my mouth, Jack and the boy were tossed out of Pulitzer's office. Jack, of course, was fuming. Les, David's little brother, looked a bit startled. "Well so's your old lady!" Jack yelled, swinging his fists in a non-threatening way to alleviate anger. "You tell Pulitzer he needs an appointment with _me_!" Jack angrily poked his thumb into his chest. Well, at least he was still in one piece…

"Grace? What are you doing here?"

"What are _you _doing here? Do you know what Pulitzer could do to you? You don't know what you're dealing with. Pulitzer is a powerful man. He doesn't lose easily and won't go down without a fight. He'll rip you and your boys into shreds as easily as he would rip one of hid competitor's newspapers. A bunch of street rats can't go up against… Pulitzer. It's… it's unheard of! Despite what classical literature says, the mouse always gets eaten by the lion! I can't believe you could be so- so… stupid! You're a-"

Jack smirked. He tapped my nose with his pointer finger. "Ain't that cute? She's worried about me," he announced smugly to his boys.

Oh that arrogant, pigheaded, mule-brained, low lying, filthy- Again, I wanted to slap that smirk off his face. "I _am not _worried about _you_. I am worried about the boys who follow you. You said it yourself. You're the leader of the Manhattan newsies. Or are you? It's no secret that newsies don't have much money. Do you really care about them? Because you're just cleaning out their pockets." I gestured to the boys crowded around us. "If you cared about them you wouldn't put them through this."

Jack fell back to that usual smirk of his, but something changed in his eyes. Was that fear I saw there, if only for a second? Perhaps it was regret. Whatever it was, it seemed to say that I was right. "Ya hear that boys? She doesn't think I'm a good leadah."

A few of the boys playfully shoved each other and made snide comments about me. Unlike a male I could swallow my pride and my anger, however, my fear was another story. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm only here for a story and I intend to leave with one. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions before I go?"

"Sure."

I smiled up at him. "Thank you. May I begin?"

"Over lunch at Tibby's." Before I could protest he added, "like you promised."

That surprise earned a gasp from me. He had me there. "Oh no. I'm afraid I can't do that today… I-"

"Do you want me to answer your questions or not?"

My shoulders fell in defeat. Jack had won and he knew it. There was a devious glint in his eyes. "I do. When should I meet you? At Tibby's."

"How about now?"

"Now?"

"Now."

The walk to Tibby's was an awkward one for me. Newsies were clapping Jack on the back or shoulder, congratulating him on his efforts and ideas. I walked behind Jack like a prisoner of war. The only think I could do to boost my confidence and keep from getting embarrassed was to feign interest in my notebook. I flipped through the pages, not really taking anything in, just thinking. My stomach sank and twisted. No matter how hard I tried to stay relaxed, my gait stiffened. I knew the newsies were watching me. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see them occasionally glancing at me. Despite my efforts, I became very stiff and awkward. I feared dining in a restaurant filled with boys who would most likely be staring at me, whispering about me, sizing me up, or making fun of me and my dream to overstep the boundaries to become a reporter. The Manhattan newsies were sure to wonder what a girl was doing trying to become a reporter and now I sat in Tibby's at a booth with Jack, Les, and David. Lunch hadn't actually been as bad as I had expected it to be. Everything seemed to straighten out once I realized that I wasn't trying to impress Jack. A girl like me and a very nice street rat like him could never be together. I almost laughed at the possibility.

"So this snooty mug says to me, 'you can't see Mr. Pulitzer, nobody sees Mr. Pulitzer,' real hoity-toity like, you know the type-"

Jack sat relaxed on the opposite side of the booth. I had insisted that I sit across from him so that I could interview him properly, but that was all a false pretense. I just felt safer sitting with David. He was quiet and so far I had learned he had good values. It was nice to see one boy left in this crazy world with his head set straight on his shoulders. Les was in a tizzy trying to get the seat next to Jack. It was clear that Jack had become Les' hero. I just hoped Jack lived up to the boy's standards. Jack obviously liked retelling the story. His chest was puffed out. A grin put emphasis on his stunning white teeth and set his eyes aglow.

"Yeah, real hoity-toity like," Les echoed.

"This is sort of like David and Goliath, except we don't know the outcome yet. You do realize you boys are very unlikely to win, right?"

"So that's when I says to him, 'listen, I ain't in the habit of transacting no business with office boys. Just tell him Jack Kelly's here to see him now.'" Jack pressed his finger down onto the table for empshasis.

"That's when they threw us out," Les chimed in cheerily. David laughed.

"Do you think they will listen to you?"

David took a turn speaking. "Well, they have to."

"This is like David and Goliath," I said again, this time scribbling it down in my notes. "I certainly hope you win. Right now, it doesn't look like you are doing so well."

"Hate to cut the interview short, but we gotta get to Brooklyn to spread the word. All the othah am'basterds are already out there doin' their jobs."

"Ambassadors," I corrected.

"Sure, whatevah."

"You could tag along if you want," David offered. He quickly added, "Unless you have something else going on…"

"I would be happy to tag along, but I don't want to bother you." _Or mess things up… _I added mentally. My father hadn't let me sit in on his business meetings for that reason. Well, that and because I'm a girl. He preferred to let my brothers hand around instead.

"Nah, you wouldn't bother us." Jack slid out of the booth followed by Les.

"Are you absolutely positive?"

"I'm the leadah of the Manhattan newsies. I always gotta be positive."

"If you say so…"

"I do say so."


End file.
